


And your father's death came by the hand of Laufey's son

by Ohdotar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adopted Children, Asgard, Gen, Parent Volstagg (Marvel), Post-Ragnarok, Protective Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 17:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12709470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohdotar/pseuds/Ohdotar
Summary: Loki didn't hear the call at first, not from the cacophony of a ship full of refugees. When he did, he didn't recognise the children immediately.He did, soon enough, and realised that their father was nowhere in sight.(Portraitoftheoddity @ tumblr posted a thing that made me cry and I wanted to fix it.)





	And your father's death came by the hand of Laufey's son

“...sire?”

At first he didn’t even register that someone was talking to him. The sheer amount of wailing and whispering and chatter had already dulled him.

“I’m so sorry, your highness, we couldn’t find anyone else…”

There were few children on Asgard - few in the sense that they would have looked like babes. They grew up fast, settling into a slower growth rate as they aged. He had seen some young boys and girls amongst the masses of fleeing people, and Bruce Banner had taken up a personal duty to count every child and adolescent and make sure that they had food and blankets first. It was good, he thought, it was as it should have been.

“Prince Loki, please,” someone said with a high-pitched, wet sound and grabbed at his cape. Loki turned around and glared. Three little children backed down immediately.  
“I’m so sorry, I - we didn’t mean to-” a girl said and began to cry. It was the opposite of how Loki wanted to have them react to seeing him.  
“No, no, children I apologise, I didn’t quite hear you,” he rushed to say as softly as he could and crouched down, reached out with a hand. “Where are your…?”  
These were Volstagg’s children. He knew these three. Two daughters, one son. Loki found words fleeing his mind.  
“Hilde…? Come here, take my hand,” he whispered and looked at the older girl as calmly as he could. She dragged her little sister closer and the boy rushed to follow them.

He hadn’t thought much of the chaos that he had unleashed upon Asgard. Not when Thor asked for it, not when it was for the sake of them all, these scraps of Asgard. He hadn’t even realised how few familiar faces there were in the crowd.  
How, in all truth, there were almost none. Heimdall he knew, unfortunately. And… Thor.  
And these children that all clung to his wrists with teary faces and dirty hands, and badly worn dresses and trousers.

He had kept Volstagg, Fandral and Hogun in charge of the Einherjar, and he had specifically told them that it was their job to guard the realm. Had thought that they could make the palace troops into a better force of defense. A stronger power.

“Oh, sir, we’re so sorry to interrupt you,” the boy said - Leif? Alf? Ulf? How in the name of Hel was he supposed to remember children’s names - swallowing tears. Loki tried to shush him as gently as he dared to. Was it too much? Would the boy see it as an insult? Volstaggson.  
“You’re not interrupting me, we all have a lot on our hands. It doesn’t mean you can’t talk to us,” he promised, even though he didn’t quite know who he meant by us. All the grown men and women on the ship? Thor and Heimdall and him?  
“Have you no one with you?” he asked the boy and Hilde, and tried to pet the youngest girl’s shoulder in a reassuring manner. Hilde shook her head and the boy tried to hide his face behind his sleeves. Loki lifted his brows carefully. Surely they had someone.

Even if their father had, truly, fallen in battle against Hela - or worse, died as Asgard crumbled and burned under Surtur’s sword, almost by Loki’s own hand - surely they had a mother? She was somewhere, was she not? Though she must have sent her children to Heimdall as soon as things started to go downhill (whenever that was).  
They must have had an uncle or an aunt. Maybe even an older, more distant cousin, somewhere on the ship. Then again, weren’t all Æsir somehow related to each other. By that logic even Loki himself could have been said cousin, adopted or not. And the children were starting to look increasingly horrified and distraught and teary.

He was that someone the children had managed to find, alone in the sea of strange faces. It was a mortifying thought. He wasn’t equipped for taking care of three unfinished people when he could hardly keep himself from doing something absolutely idiotic.

“It’s all right. Come here,” Loki still said and knelt all the way down. Volstagg’s children huddled closer as he took off his cape, and wrapped it carefully around them. He tried to keep his hands steady.  
“You have to stay warm, it can get quite chilly around here, between stars,” he said. Hilde and Maybe-Leif nodded firmly, hopefully able to turn their thoughts away from more horrible things. The smallest child was still crying, but at least more quietly now. Loki took hold of the edge of his cape to wipe her cheeks dry for her.  
“I, of course, should be able to do with a little less, what with… being a son of Jötunheim, by birth,” he rambled and tried to smile a little. Please, don’t cry. At least don’t cry more.  
“So don’t you worry for me, you three need the cape more, hm?” he tried again, holding the boy’s shoulder firmly, and yes, Hilde gave him the smallest smile a child ever smiled. 

“That’s it. We will be all right, all of us. Have you eaten yet? We could go and see if… if mister Bruce Banner, from Midgard - do you see that short, dark-haired fellow? If he could get you something to eat before it is time for you to get some sleep. You have heard of him, I am sure, from what Thor has told. He is a scientist and a healer. He will help us.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a self-indulgent piece of pure sugar and syrup okay. Bear with me.


End file.
